


St. Lawrence's Night (I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky)

by Kendrene



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Canon Setting, F/F, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Picnics, Vaginal Fingering, a glimpse of season 3 fluff, also canon Clarke hates working out apparently, of course a bit of angst, which they screwed us out of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 22:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11046051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrene/pseuds/Kendrene
Summary: Clarke and Raven take Anya and Lexa away from the pressure of leadership for a couple of hours. Fluff and smut ensue.





	St. Lawrence's Night (I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jude81](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jude81/gifts), [TheEvangelion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/gifts).



> For Jude81 and TheEvangelion - two favorites of mine who lately made me bawl my eyes out with their writing (rude) 
> 
> A cry for a cry - maybe? ;)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> \- Dren
> 
> Oh yeah for this one Clarke hadn't slept with Finn because reasons.

_But the Colorado rocky mountain high_

_I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky_

_The shadow from the starlight is softer than a lullabye_

_Rocky mountain high_

Rocky Mountain High - John Denver

 

Getting them away from the village had been the easiest part, Clarke mused as she lead the way up the steep hill, puffing with effort.

She glanced to her right, where the narrow path they were clambering upon gave way to a steep ravine in which night had already fallen.

Far below the fires of the village glittered like a scattering of jewels among the lengthening shadows, and at that distance Clarke could almost believe the work to rebuild Annan from its smoldering ruins was already done.

It had been her idea - well hers and Kane’s really - to help rebuild, in an attempt at making up for what Pike had done and for what Clarke felt she personally owed Anya. The grounders had been skeptical at first and who could blame them?

But as new houses had sprung up in record time thanks to Raven’s idea for a makeshift crane, the clans’ attitude had slowly thawed, and some of them had gone as far as to ask Heda’s permission to establish permanent trading routes with Arkadia.

The peace that had followed was a thing as fragile as the first stalks of grass piercing through snow at the turn of the season, but for now it held and Clarke could content herself with that.

“How much further?” Lexa’s voice called from the shadows behind her and the blonde envied the older woman for sounding so… _relaxed_. She bet her best boots that the Commander wasn’t even breaking a sweat.

It took Clarke a whistled suck of air between clenched teeth before she could reply, and her own voice was hoarse with thirst.

“The top...of the hill.” She panted and could swear she heard Anya snort softly at the rear of their small group. Glancing back, she saw that the General had hoisted Raven onto her back, the climb probably too much for the girl’s injured leg. Clarke rolled her eyes when her friend stuck her tongue out at her, then raised a hand to push hair matted with sweat away from her face.

Glancing at the sky, Clarke made a last ditch effort to quicken her step, trying to ignore the dull burning that spread inside her chest with each gulp of air. They were high enough above the valley that the last rays of the sun still splashed across their cheeks, stretching onto the ground like tongues of a dwindling fire.

Their shadows grew impossibly big and, in the waning light, each of them looked like a giant.

Finally they crested the hill and Clarke pointed to the gentle slope she’d scouted out days before, feeling an excited grin dawn on her lips.

“Here,” she said, shrugging off the backpack she’d been lugging up the hill with an involuntary moan, “this is the place.”

Lexa watched Clarke almost sprint forward, the toll of their ascent seemingly forgotten. The girl looked cheerful, the happiest she had seen her since the gates of Arkadia had swung open for the Commander’s warriors and a dead-eyed Clarke, blood dripping down her cheeks in guise of tears, had announced that Pike was dead.

Raven scrambled off of Anya’s back with a grunt, hobbling forward to join Clarke and leaving the two of them to exchange a bewildered look.

“I have no idea,” Anya shrugged apologetically at her unspoken question, “she just told me there was something I needed to see.”

“And we both know you can’t refuse her anything.” Lexa’s smirk was soft in the low light, her words warm and lacking sting.

“As if you wouldn’t try and trap the sun for Clarke if she asked you to.”

Her General and friend grinned down at her, bumping her shoulder teasingly before she strode into the meadow to find out just what the two Skayons were plotting.

Lexa joined them more slowly, pondering Anya’s words.

She and Clarke… Their relationship was tentative at best, something made up of fleeting touches and stolen glances or a shared eye roll during a meeting. The conversations they managed to share in a moment of quiet never more than a dozen or two words, that she’d replay in her head for the rest of the day - or until their next whispered exchange had a chance to happen.

And then there were a hundred pressing matters pulling them apart; with Roan dead, Nia had scurried back north, but Lexa wasn’t resting easy, and the coup against Pike had cost Clarke her own mother.

Her eyes roamed the valley below, coming to rest on the village. Lexa didn’t need to be there to know it was teeming with people ending their workday, air rich with the smell of roasting meat and the sound of children laughing. Even at a distance she could smell the faint whiff of wood smoke in the summer breeze.

The village had been a buoy for Clarke, something she could fill her days with to avoid drowning in her own grief. Lexa had known right away because she had exhausted herself the same way after Costia, and despite Kane expressing his concerns about the blonde’s health she hadn’t intervened even if she technically could.

But Clarke had needed the catharsis of hard labor that came with aching muscles and hands split by bloody sores, she’d needed to see that her hands were capable of building something durable for a change, instead of tearing something else down.

Still, she surmised as she reached the others, there were dark smudges that she didn’t like under those sky blue eyes, and Clarke had thinned out too much, her cheeks pale and hollowed out.

It was time to put a stop to her self-mortification, Lexa decided.

Gently.

“You planned this,” she couldn’t help the widening of her eyes as she took in the food that Clarke and Raven had arranged on a blanket they’d thrown on the ground.

And they must have had some help, judging from the careful way in which everything was wrapped. Lexa recognized her handmaidens hand in this and gave a small, defeated sigh, not entirely displeased.

It appeared she wasn’t the only one wrapped around Clarke’s little finger - not that the blonde needed to know how true that was just yet.

Or ever.

“I still don’t understand what’s so special about this place,” Anya lamented, lowering herself to the ground with an exxagerated groan, “if all you wanted was a pretty field there are plenty of those just outside Annan.”

“Well, perhaps we wanted to get you two alone, eh?” Raven countered, leaning into the taller woman with a sigh and a teasing smile. Lexa watched Anya’s usually stoic demeanor waver, the General’s severe features flushing with a heat that had nothing to do with the lingering warmth of the day.

Her secret amusement was short lived however, because when she looked to Clarke, the blonde was biting her lower lip and her blue eyes had darkened with a desire that sent delicious tremors down Lexa’s spine.

Her mouth went as dry as the southern deserts and she was done for, falling so hard and so fast that she became lightheaded and short of breath.

Sitting on the blanket next to Clarke with weakened knees and none of her usual grace, Lexa tried to hide inner turmoil, miserably failing when Clarke scooted close and leant into her side, the blonde’s nose grazing against her jaw.

The Commander cast a look towards their two companions, somewhat dreading Anya’s jokes about her display, but found that her General was as besotted as she felt and only had eyes for the dark haired girl that had elected new residence on her lap.

When Lexa didn’t pull away, Clarke leaned in more firmly, nose brushing against the brunette’s sharp jaw, an arm tentatively draping around the small of her back. They hadn’t been this close in quite some time, and those had been days in which she’d been devoured by doubt, thinking that perhaps Lexa didn’t want the same things she wished for.

This close, Heda smelled lightly of sweat and the cured leather of her coat, and of more earthly things just underneath . There was the faintest hint of woodsmoke trapped between loose strands of her brown hair, and the harsher tang of the mineral oil she used to maintain her weapons.

Regardless all of it was Lexa, and Clarke couldn’t help but press her nose more firmly into the spot where Heda’s shoulder ended and the elegant column of her neck began. She  inhaled deeply - breathed as much of the woman as she could - and after held her within her lungs as long as she was able.

Clarke felt Lexa’s arm wrap hesitantly around her back, hand pressing between her shoulderblades to keep her close, and released her breath in a shaky laugh when the brunette rested her cheek on top of her head for a moment, before nuzzling discreetly into her hair.

The blonde’s other hand grasped loosely at the front of Lexa’s shirt, and she closed her eyes for one long moment, not wanting to pull away from the damp, quiet place she’d carved into the brunette’s skin. The crook of Lexa’s neck, the curve of her collarbone digging against Clarke’s cheek felt like her only real landing site on this Earth, the place where not her body, but her spirit had touched down.

In the end their embrace dissolved into a fit of giggles, when the loud growling of their stomachs broke the serene quiet of the night.

“Eat something you two,” Anya grunted around a mouthful of what looked like cheese, “you both sound like starving paunas.”

Clarke exchange a sheepish look with Lexa, then grinned fondly when they reached for the same slice of cured meat, fingers lingering a fraction more than what was needed.

When Clarke had asked the handmaidens to help her little scheme, she’d left them free rein on what kind of food to pack for them, and as she perused the different things spread out on the blanket, she smiled, recognizing several of Lexa’s favorite things.

There was a blue veined hard cheese that Heda loved, but had made Clarke’s eyes water and tongue curl with its tartness when she had tried it the first time. The maidens had also packed large discs of flatbread to go with the cheese and meat and, to complete the meal, a hearty portion of Lexa’s favored sweets - hard bars made from nuts and honey that the Commander was quite fond of.

They had spring water and a light cider to wash everything down, and Raven had dug a small oil lamp out of the backpack, but they left it unlit for the time being since the silvery glow of the rising moon was enough to see by.

“This is nice,” Lexa admitted after they had settled down on the blankets, staring up at the sky with a full stomach, “but we should head back soon. It’s getting late.”

“Wait,” Raven called from where she had curled up in Anya’s arms, “it’s about to start.”

“What is?”

But there was no need for a reply as a solitary streak of light split the night’s velvet sky, followed by so many others that it looked like the stars themselves were falling. Moonlight dimmed and, wherever Lexa looked, the sky was awash in fiery streamers, a thousand unfurling banners that led the sky’s eerily silent charge against the ground.

“This is…” Lexa was at a loss. It was beautiful, and savage, and terrifying. It reminded her of the night she had been called upon the Polis’ Tower by her guards to watch the Ark crash ontoto her lands much in the same way.

Although there had been plenty of noise that evening, great booms like distant thunder, while now the night remained still and unperturbed, save for the mad beating of her heart.

“The tears of St. Lawrence,” Anya’s voice was naught but a reverent half-whisper, but it carried as if she had been speaking the words aloud, “I’ve read of them, but never seen the like.”

“You mean you never looked _up_ during a summer night?” Raven snickered, voice full of disbelief. Her mirth tapered off into a sharp grunt, a clear sign she’d gotten a taste of Anya’s elbows.

“When you’re on guard duty, the last place you’re supposed to look at is the sky, girl.” The warrior sneered, “and yes, before you make another quip I _do_ read. Occasionally.”

“And here I thought your only hobby was thumping people around in the training yards.” Raven actually yelped this time, and when Lexa glanced at them she found her sprawled atop the General, writhing and gasping as Anya mercilessly tickled her out of more jokes.

“People used to wish upon the Saint’s tears,” Clarke, who had been quiet up till then, head resting on Lexa’s shoulder as they laid side by side, spoke up and when the Commander’s gaze traveled down to tangled with the blonde’s, she saw that her eyes were full of sadness and yearning.

“Sha, that’s true,” Anya agreed in a soft murmur, “this man Lawrence, he was burned by his enemies and I’ve read people believed that the lights in the sky were the sparks flying into the heavens from the gridiron he was tied to.”

It was a terrible legend, Lexa thought, but also terribly beautiful. Hopeful.

“We should wish on something,” she prompted quietly, “there’s so many lights in the sky tonight...one of our wishes is bound to come true.”

Clarke jerked slightly at Lexa’s words, eyes widening in surprise. She pushed up on an elbow so that she could see the Commander’s face better. In the light of the moon Lexa’s eyes were black obsidian, still as the surface of a lake, and the soft light gentled her hard features into an expression that had an otherworldly quality about it.

Clarke wondered what it would be like to chance upon such a face while wandering the woods at night, and she was sure that - if it happened to her - she would mistake Lexa for a spirit, or a an ancient Goddess on the hunt.

“I thought Heda didn’t have room for wishes,” she rasped, eyes carefully searching Lexa’s.

“Sometimes she does.”

Lexa sat up, tugging her onto her lap before she could protest and pushing gentle fingers under her chin, so that Clarke was forced to let her gaze reflect the stars so far above their head.

“Wasn’t it you who told me life should be about more than just surviving?” Lexa’s breath skated along her earlobe and Clarke pressed back into her lean frame despite herself.

“Wishes are for tomorrow,” her whisper was a dead and broken thing, and tears stung her eyes, turning the meteor shower into a soft haze, “what if there isn’t one?” Clarke thought about her mother, dead and buried outside Arkadia’s walls and under an old oak.

She’d wanted it that way even though Marcus had objected, so that Abby would be cradled in the embrace of old roots, with nothing but a shroud between her and the earth she’d fought so hard to reach.

He’d pushed for a monument, but monuments were for the living. The dead just craved their peace.

Lexa’s other arm tightened around Clarke’s waist and the hand that had been under her chin skirted across her cheeks, thumbing silent tears away.

“If you can’t wish just for yourself then wish for...for…”

The Commander trailed off, but an unspoken _us_ hung heavy in the air between them.

And so Clarke picked a falling star, and hope fluttered in her heart even though she told herself she had stopped believing wishes came true the day her father died.

She couldn’t put words to her wish, but she screwed her eyes shut and tightened her jaw, willing all her heart behind it.

And in the quiet space between one heartbeat and the next her skin was awash in goosebumps, her every hair on edge. The whole night charged with electricity, with possibility, and when her eyes flew open and breath she didn’t know she had been holding left her in a rush, Clarke felt like the world around them had altered in a way no naked eye could see.

For a long time none of them said anything, each opening herself to the night in their own way.

Clarke drank of it deeply and the gentle breeze sweeping across the moonlit meadow, which smelled of sunlight caught in the high grass, spiraled down into her lungs.

It wrapped around her every bone like unseen gossamer, filled her hollow spaces to the brim until she overflowed both with the scent of dying summer and the promise of another season.

And slowly, ensconced in the safety of Lexa’s body pressed into her own, she began to heal.

Sometime later Anya left, carrying a sleeping Raven down the hill, and they had the night -and the meadow - to themselves.

“I don’t want to go back yet,” Clarke whispered against Lexa’s neck, fingers somehow finding their way under Lexa’s shirt to skim lightly along the taut muscles of the brunette’s abs.

There was a muted gasp and Clarke really couldn’t tell which of them was the first to close the distance, but suddenly they were breathing each other in, lips brushing against each other and then pressing forward boldly as they kissed.

It wasn’t their first kiss, but all of them had been stolen in the shadowed corner of a room between a meeting and the next.

This one was different, slow and deliberate, Lexa’s hands moving to cradle her face as the Commander’s tongue swiped against her lower lip, before Heda claimed her mouth, demanding her surrender.

Clarke moaned as she felt Lexa’s teeth graze her lip then bite it harshly. She shifted on the older woman’s lap, fingers tangling in Heda’s braided hair, unraveling them into a mess of soft curls that spilled like liquid down the Commander’s back.

She pulled back with a shuddering breath, knowing what was about to happen. Her body responded to Lexa’s every touch, warmth pooling low inside her belly, and yet, even as it lifted in elation, her heart was seized by fear.

“Lexa wait..I…” Clarke bit her lip, grateful that moonlight masked the heat rising up her neck, “I never…”

She could not continue past that, and shot Heda an hopeful look, praying she didn’t have to,

“You never...made love before?” Lexa’s words were silk against her heated flesh, her voice gentle like Clarke had never heard, and she could only nod dumbly, unable to pull back just because the Commander’s hold suddenly tightened.

She had come close with Finn, but they had only gotten as far as sloppy kisses and awkward touching and then, after she’d learned about Raven, she’d been relieved nothing had happened, plus more than a bit disgusted with him.

Before that, back on the Ark she’d been close with a girl from Farm station, but being thrown in solitary had been quite a dampener on things.

And after there had been no time to find someone she felt comfortable with, only one fight after the other.

Lexa watched Clarke’s eyes fill with fear, and one of her hands moved to the nape of the blonde’s neck, stroking softly. Her own eyes she knew, were brimming with reverence.

“You want to offer me your blood?” She wasn’t sure if the skai people referred to their first time that way, and Clarke’s brow furrowed momentarily, confirming her suspicion, but then the blonde was nodding mutely, a new wave of tears glistening on her cheeks.

The blood thumping in her ears became a roar, and Lexa guided Clarke into another kiss, hands moving to the girl’s shoulders to push her down onto the blanket.

She felt the blonde fumble at her coat, and shrugged it off tossing it to the side  before she gently pinned Clarke’s arms above her head, thumbs rubbing the insides of her wrists.

“Let me.” It was a quiet command, whispered against Clarke’s mouth and then their tongues were tangling, hot and messy, and the moan the blonde released into her throat had Lexa’s ribs resonate in unison like harp strings.

“Keep your hands above your head,” Lexa held Clarke’s gaze then, once she was sure the blonde would do as she was told, she took her hands away, bringing them to the hem of Clarke’s shirt and lifting it reverently.

The blonde’s skin was beyond pale in the eerie light, bordering on diaphanous, and Lexa kissed every inch of it that she uncovered. The night was warm enough that when she pulled Clarke to her for a moment and undressed her, the girl did not voice the slightest protest, simply whimpering at the loss of Lexa’s lips against her flesh.

“You’re beautiful.”

Emotion made it hard to talk, but Lexa’s eyes spoke a thousand and more words as her eyes raked every soft curve of Clarke’s body without shame.

Again she noted with a displeased press of her lips that she was quick to hide, how thin Clarke had become since they had met for the first time, her ribs pushing against taut skin, her breasts less full.

Grief had been eating away at her and it was time to put an end to it.

“You’re way too dressed,” the blonde grumbled, hand twitching towards Lexa’s sleeve before a pointed look froze her in place.

“There will be time later,” Lexa reassured, laying on her side, so that her hand could draw lazy patterns along the valleys of Clarke’s chest and lower belly, “we have all night.”

Then she was done talking, pushing on one elbow to press her eager mouth to Clarke’s, hand cupping the blonde’s breast gently, then squeezing a bit harder, her touch drawing mewls and breathy sighs out of the blonde.

Her mouth left Clarke’s, but only so that she could drag it slowly along her jaw, before she attacked the tender flesh of the blonde’s throat, tongue licking insistently against Clarke’s racing pulse before she sucked a stinging mark into the blonde’s skin.

Clarke cried out at the sharp bite of Lexa’s teeth, then whimpered as the pulsing bruise was soothed with wet, open-mouthed kisses.

The brunette’s hands were strong and calloused, but the way her hardened skin scratched against her breasts sent waves of pleasure down her spine. Clarke felt weightless, Heda’s touch the only thing anchoring her to the ground. She had touched her breasts before, pinched her nipples, but having Lexa’s hands on her  set every nerve ending on fire.

She burned so much that she was grateful for the breeze caressing the parts of her that Lexa’s couldn’t reach, because she was afraid that otherwise she would catch fire and burn as brightly as the fiery tears weeping from the sky.

Just when it felt like her bones were on the point of melting like wax, Lexa’s lips ignited another fire, leaving a trail of fiery touches down her front, to suck another mark against her hipbone.

Lexa felt Clarke’s hips buck wildly and she grinned into the divot of her hip, hands moving to cradle the blonde’s firm ass as she lifted her up for better access.

And then, despite wanting to go slow, she couldn’t wait any longer, pressing sloppy kisses along the insides of Clarke’s thighs, the soft skin painted with the blonde’s arousal.

The blonde didn’t seem to mind the change of pace, legs falling wider apart for her and a hand tangling in Lexa’s hair, pushing her forward with a urgent tug.

Lexa only smirked at the infraction, pressing a kiss at the apex of Clarke’s sex, before her tongue dipped between the blonde’s glistening folds to lap greedily at her arousal.

The Commander kissed and sucked the straining bundle of Clarke’s clit, eliciting a throaty moan and another tug, this time forceful enough to make her scalp sting, then she dipped her tongue to lap at her lover’s dripping entrance not bothered by the fact the blonde was practically bathing her nose and chin in her juices.

Clarke shook like a tree caught in the middle of a storm, every adoring flick of Lexa’s tongue sparking hotter fires inside her gut. She ground shamelessly against the brunette’s mouth and chin, smearing her arousal across Heda’s cheek in lieu of warpaint.

But there was a different tightness gathering at the base of her spine, and she opened her mouth to beg for something, anything that could relieve it.

“Leksa...beja…” She wasn’t even sure that was the right word, and surely she had mangled its pronunciation, but she felt Lexa shift, and then one of the Commander’s long fingers was pushing at tight ring of muscles of her entrance, circling it torturously slow before reaching inside her.

Clarke let out a strangled gasp, not because there was pain, but at the _fullness_.

She wanted to howl when Lexa slowly pulled out, but before she could the brunette’s finger was plunging deep inside her again, deeper than the first time, and curling against her front wall with each stroke.

And when Lexa’s tongue went back to paint bold circles around her clit Clarke crumbled, her free hand grasping at a tuft of grass, the other scratching weakly at Lexa’s scalp.

She came with a loud cry that seared her lungs, body convulsing as Lexa’s finger slowed to a soothing rhythm drawing pleasure out of her in a flood that felt like it would never end.

Lexa lifted her head, using the hand she’d held under Clarke’s ass to ease the blonde’s stuttering hips down on the blanket, before rubbing calming circles over her pelvis. Clarke’s drenched muscled squeezed her finger like a vice, much tighter than she had expected, and Lexa stilled inside her allowing the blonde’s body to release her at its own pace.

Once she could pull free, Lexa did so as gently as she was able then crawled up the length of Clarke’s quivering body to pull her tightly into her chest.

She tucked Clarke’s head securely under her chin, and the skai girl clung to her as a castaway would to flotsam, the last vestiges of release washing over her limbs like rising tide.

After a while Clarke moved to feather a kiss to her chin, shaky fingers engaging a battle without quarter against the strings of Lexa’s shirt.

“Rest for a while,” the Commander murmured, rubbing her cheek lovingly on top of the blonde’s head, “we have a whole night ahead of us.”

She lifted her eyes to the sky, its perfect blackness still powdered with a shimmering of stardust.

“And plenty more wishes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? I apologize if you find any typos - i tripled checked but my brain is fried tonight.


End file.
